web hit counter

Angela St. Lawrence is the reigning queen of high-end, long distance training and Femme Domme phone sex, providing esoteric depravity for the aficionado, specializing in Erotic Fetish, Female Domination, Cock Control, Kinky Taboo and Sensual Debauchery. To make an appointment or speak with Ms. St. Lawrence  ...


Exclusive Erotic Quickie

Saturday, February 20th, 2010

by Jeremy Edwards

The supplementary co-ed bathroom at the far end of Janice’s dorm floor was the next best thing to a private hotel room. Phil loved slipping in there with Janice for late-night sex in the stall nearest the door–the stall that featured a bathtub instead of a toilet. They’d yet to be disturbed here.

"Mmm, your fingers feel so good," Janice said at 1 a.m. on a Thursday night, as Phil teased the slick lips of her pussy with his warm, soapy digits.

Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open. And through the gap between the stall door’s hinges, Phil and Janice were able to see who had entered, catching a fleeting glimpse of her as she walked by: chestnut hair, a yummy midriff, and tight, round jeans.

"Oh, wow," said Phil in his lover’s ear. "It’s that hot chick from our French lit class." He and Janice had talked about her before. Janice liked hearing Phil talk about the women he found attractive.

As he spoke, they heard a stall door slam. Feet appeared in the cubicle next to them.

"Whoa–her jeans are down," Phil whispered. A moment later, as a pretty splashing noise reverberated off the tile walls, he continued: "Oh my god, she’s peeing."

"Duh, Phil," hissed Janice, her voice evidently holding back laughter.
"What did you think went on in here?"

"I know, I know . . . but, wow, without any pomp or circumstance . . ."

"You thought girls made a speech first?"

The lovely tinkling sound continued.

"It just seems too good to be true. That women come in here and they actually pull their pants down and piss, just like that. They really do it." Somehow a part of him had expected the world around him to fade to black rather than really showing him this.

"Phil, you goofball–it’s what she came in here to do."

"Oh, fuck, yeah. I know, I know," he repeated blissfully.

The peeing music finally abated, and the woman in the next stall sighed sexily. Then she giggled. "It sounds from the whispers like there are two of you in that tub," she called out. "I hope I didn’t disturb you."

"Not at all," groaned Phil, as Janice pulled firmly on his hard, hard cock.


If you’re a regular reader, you will remember my dear writer-friend Jeremy Edwards AKA Jerotic.  It’s been a while, but if you liked this charming bit of erotica … well, plug Jerotic or Jeremy Edwards into the search box and you’ll find him here and there along with THIS STORY.   Because I’ve been a fan since day one … and you should be too.  Sweetness and naughtingess and sexiness and kink and playfulness and seduction and — me oh my — how does somebody get it so right?  Every single time?

Like any self-respecting smut-provocateur Jeremy gets around, gleefully spreading the very good news that  "it’s good to be bad."  I don’t have to tell you that this is a philosophy I wholeheartedly embrace, now do I? And, apparently, so do lotsa goodly and smartly erotica writers and fans, ‘cuz their all jumping for joy wherever and whenever Jerotic shows up.  Just read what they have to say, why dontcha?

Best news of all?  Our dear and most appreciated Jerotic has published his first erotic novel, ROCK MY SOCKS OFF.  You can read more about this book and purchase it  HERE.  Go ahead, click that link; don’t be shy.

For up-to-the-minute news (announcements, links, & trivia re. All Things Jerotic), visit and bookmark From Socks To Fedora.  And stay tuned to this blog, because I intend to sweet-talk my most-cherished Jeremy out of many more hot stories for this blog.

xo, Angela

Kinky Java: Not Mama’s Starbucks

Sunday, February 1st, 2009

I’m Told I Make Good Coffee
by Jeremy Edwards

"You make the best coffee, Lawrence," Claudine said with an emphatic resonance of sincerity in her voice. I knew she was no stranger to the many java boutiques in the neighborhood, so I was especially appreciative of this compliment.

"But speaking of drinking coffee . . . ." Her cute little bottom hopped off the wooden stool behind the counter, and she shuttled briskly toward the bathroom. I walked around to take her place at the cash register, prepared for the unlikely event of a customer visiting the little record store at the hour of 11:20 a.m.

"Uh-oh," said Claudine from the end of the short hall that led to the bathroom. "The door is stuck again." I bounced over to help her, having myself mastered the "trick" to getting the door to unjam.

As I approached, I noticed that Claudine’s ass was jiggling a bit. I remembered how once, in idle conversation about our sexual proclivities, she had mentioned to me that she enjoyed the erotic sensations of "holding it" a while before peeing. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time; but now my breath went short as I speculated that she was relishing the present moment. I noticed how the tight, pinstriped fabric of her handsome retro slacks danced seductively with her movements.

"Thanks. I have to pee!" she giggled as I reached for the doorknob. Something about the manner in which she stated the obvious seemed to confirm my guess that she was enjoying herself.

From my position behind her, I pushed my weight forward while turning the knob. As the door suddenly gave, I lost my balance slightly, and I unintentionally pressed against her.

"Sorry!" I reddened.

Claudine turned and gave me the warmest of knowing smiles. "Lawrence–are you a little hard?" More than a little, I thought. She was dancing in place now, openly holding her crotch, but she was
grinning happily and showed no signs of moving along.

"I guess so." I returned her smile.

"Oh, you sexy boy. This is the kind of thing that can make a grown girl wet her pants," she laughed, with a suggestion in her voice that though it might be a bit of an inconvenience to wet her pants here and now, the scenario otherwise held an attraction for her. And where she was allowing herself to hover on the brink of wetting her pants, I was now on the verge of pollinating my jeans.

She darted into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. I began to turn away as she peeled her slacks and panties and backed onto the commode . . . but suddenly she called "It’s okay–you don’t have to leave."

The next thing I heard was an angelic sigh of release. As the hiss and roar of her pissing began, I stumbled in without further hesitation, secure in the knowledge that the bell above the front door of the shop would give me plenty of time to return to the counter to serve any hypothetical forenoon customers. Hypothetical and improbable, I noted cheerfully.


From our sweet Zen Friend, Jerotic, who also recently (and I am late with this … you’ll have some catching up to do) sent the following:


Please join me at my blog next Tuesday, January 27, when I welcome brilliant writer Nikki Magennis, author of the mindblowing eroto-rockin’ adventure The New Rakes! Nikki will be telling us about her passionate relationship with rock ‘n’ roll and indulging us with exquisite excerpts … and it’s rumored there will even be an X-rated paper-doll floor show!


Taken together (now there’s a thought!), the delectably delicious Donna George Storey and the mouthwateringly molten Monroe, Kirsten constitute what I would call a "sex + food supergroup." And just look what they’ve cooked up! It’s a virtual progressive dinner, which will spread out across the blogosphere tablecloth starting this Sunday, January 25, with sauces and sensations spilling over from one venue to another through Wednesday, February 4. Your appetite(s) are guaranteed to be satisfied!

Here’s Donna’s official invitation, with all the details and the schedule:

Join Us for a Sensual and Provocative Progressive Dinner ala Blog

Come join us for a sensual feast to celebrate the new year of hope, promise, and delicious pleasures of every flavor. Each day a new erotica-writing blogger will be your host for one sumptuous course, providing recipes, entertainment and scintillating discussion topics. Best of all, dinners ala blog are known to expand your mind, but not your waistline. The festivities begin on Sunday, January 25. Come to one, come to all—you deserve a little indulgence!

Sunday January 25—Amuse-bouche
Craig Sorensen
Monday January 26—Appetizer
 Shanna Germain

Wednesday January 28—Soup
Helia Brookes and Jeremy Edwards

Thursday January 29—Fish
Neve Black

Friday January 30—Meat Entrée
Kirsten Monroe

Saturday, January 31—Vegetarian Entrée
Donna George Storey

Monday, February 2—Salad

Tuesday, February 3—Dessert
Sommer Marsden

Wednesday, February 4—Petit Fours and Truffles
Nikki Magennis

 I’m really looking forward to this 10-day stretch of sensuous socializing, and I hope you’ll all be part of the parties!

from socks to fedora,


Phone Sex Quote of the Day

 Via HDB, who stops by here at Zen and even calls me quite often: 

There are times when you just want to get done what you want to get done.  And for those times, Phone Sex just can’t be beat … no pun intended.


Tuesday, August 26th, 2008

A society that gets rid of all its troublemakers goes downhill

~Robert A. Heinlein

… those troublemakers being Jerotic and and Gracie Passette.

First a Bit of Naughtiness from Jerotic:

Movie Night
by Jeremy Edwards

The moment that I walked into the den and saw Jocelyn squatting on a plastic tarp in the middle of the room, pissing furiously through her lime panties–while she and the other women laughed uproariously and Steve Martin blithely continued his shtick on the 27" screen–I knew that this was not your average party.

"What in the world is going on in here?" I blurted, my eyes riveted on Jocelyn’s thick cascade.

"I *told* you this was ‘Laugh Till You Pee Night,’" said my friend Tina. Tina was rocking in an armchair, and she was wearing only a T-shirt, underpants, and tiny crew socks–which rubbed together as she intertwined her ankles. "You said you weren’t interested."

"I didn’t know you meant it literally," I said.

"Shh!" said another voice, from the couch–Caroline’s. I looked in that direction and, in the dim light afforded by the TV, I saw a couple of pairs of bare legs crossing and uncrossing. On the coffee table in front of Caroline and Denise, a population of empty beer bottles flickered their part of the story.

"I just thought you were going to watch some comedies," I persisted.

Jocelyn had finally finished peeing. She stood up, smiling radiantly, and smoothed her hands over her soaked panties. "Hi, Ted," she said, acknowledging me nonchalantly before seating herself on a beach towel. She now turned her attention back to the movie, and I could see that she was beginning to gently stroke herself through the dampness.

I had thought myself lucky this May when I’d found out that the house Tina and I had arranged to rent for the summer was going to be populated with what I deemed to be four of the most gorgeous women on campus–Tina and her three best friends. The reality, though, was that none of them seemed particularly interested in interacting with me. So, aside from my casual friendship with Tina, I’d developed a habit of keeping to myself. This was why I’d turned down her invitation to join them for what I thought would be a run-of-the-mill movie night.

I swallowed. "Do you girls do this often?" I asked Tina.

"Quiet!" said Denise.

Suddenly, the TV went dead. No power failure, no unplugged cord . . . just an appliance deciding to konk out forever.

"It’s not going to come back," Tina reported a minute later after fussing with the controls, her body dancing the whole time.

"Now what do we do?" asked Caroline from the couch, amidst a continuing flurry of crossing and re-crossing legs. "I’ve been looking forward to this all week!"

"I know. Same here," Tina replied. As she paced the room, I observed that her delicate minuet was approaching the scale of a tango. "I’m just about ready to do it, too."

"I’m not going to wet myself to a dead TV," said Denise. "I mean, what would be the point of *that*?" And with this remark she stood up from the couch, clutching herself, obviously ready to call it a night and head for a bathroom.

It took me only another instant to assess the situation and respond appropriately.

"I know some jokes," I said.


And then Gracie and Jerotic are gonna team up to make some (air) waves tomorrow night  — Wednesday, August 27, 2008 — on the The Cult of Gracie Radio Show

Now that should be very interesting.  But it’s all in good fun and of a good heart, as they are hoping to raise awareness for the Ultimate Burlesque, which goes to raise money for MacMillan CancerSupport.  How awesome is that?  And while you can always listen to the the archived show at a later date, if you listen in live, you can either email or call in with questions.

xo, Angela

The Joy of Sox — to Fedora

Sunday, August 17th, 2008

Jerotic (who’s a good buddy of this blog, showing up here and there, now and again) sends my way: 

Hello, everyone! Here’s a summary (because the weather is summery) of some recent JE publication news.
Tasting Her: Oral Sex Stories, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel, is now available, as is the companion book, Tasting Him. My piece in "Her" (ooh, that sounds … nice) is called "Cavanaugh’s Ridge." As it happens, I’ve been reading all the other writers’ stories over the past few days, and having a most wonderful time. The roster includes, among others, Lisette Ashton, Emerald, Shanna Germain, Sommer Marsden, Gwen Masters, Craig J. Sorensen, Donna George Storey, Alison Tyler, and Kristina Wright!
Meanwhile, my story "Any Friend of Hers" appears in a new Xcite books collection called Satisfy Me. [Cue "Satisfaction" guitar riff: enh-enh, enhnenhNENH-enhnenhnenhnenhnenh …] I’m sharing a table of contents with Elizabeth Cage and Kristina Wright in this one!

And coming up (like a flower–remember that song?) …
I was recently given the opportunity of participating in a wonderful program called Burlesque Against Breast Cancer. And, being the way I am, I had stripped down to my rudiments before I realized that the commodity under discussion was a display of Jeremy writing, not a display of Jeremy flesh. So I got dressed again and wrote a story … and I’m delighted to announce that it will be included in Ultimate Burlesque, a volume of burlesque-themed erotica that will benefit Macmillan Cancer Support. The book is being edited by Emily Dubberley and Alyson Fixter of Scarlet magazine, and will be published by Xcite. Authors include Portia Da Costa, Maxim Jakubowski, Kristina Lloyd, Nikki Magennis, Donna George Storey, and Alison Tyler!

Early in ’09, my story "Francine’s Kid" will be published in Coming Together: At Last (ed. Alessia Brio), a two-volume collection of erotica that will benefit the heroic human-rights organization Amnesty International. Each story in this collection involves characters who are different races from each other sharing love/sex/lust. The book’s release is intentionally timed around Martin Luther King Day. Erotica, racial harmony, Dr. King, human rights … I’m damn proud to be part of this! And I’m damn proud to be between the double covers with writers like Jolie Du Pré, Sacchi Green, Saskia Walker, and Allison Wonderland!

And I’m also super-excited to be able to say that a piece of mine called "Human" has been selected for inclusion in an anthology put together by the folks at Oysters & Chocolate! This collection will be released by NAL/Penguin in May, 2009. The O&C website is the home to a number of my stories, and I’m thrilled to be part of the first O&C book. (I don’t know the table of contents for this one yet.)

from socks to fedora,



 Hmmm …. I think I just might write to Jeremy and ask him for one of his little short stories to feature here.  I mean, after all, it has been a while, and he certainly never disappoints.  His writing is clever and sexy — with a scrumptious dose of whimsey that tickles my funny bone along with a few other of my parts.  He also happens to be one heck-of-a nice guy.  You, dear reader, should be gone now:  off to add to your ever-growing erotica collection.

xo, Angela